In the middle of the eighteenth century William Aislabie began to create a landscape garden on the banks of the River Ure, near the village of Grewelthorpe. In contrast to his grand estate at Studley, a few miles away, there were few manicured lawns or geometric pools, and instead Hackfall was a ‘sequestered and most romantic place’. Dotted around the grounds were summerhouses and shelters, including a dramatic hilltop tower called Mowbray Castle.

Word soon spread that Hackfall was a place worth seeing, and early visitors recorded their admiration for the place: ‘never was there seen a finer assemblage of wild and variegated nature’ wrote a tourist in 1785. Although visitors frequently refer to the ‘imitations of ruins’ in the pleasure grounds (there’s also a sham-ruin banqueting house), the earliest specific reference by a visitor to ‘Mowbray Castle’ found to date is from the 1780s, which tallies with an account in the archive suggesting work was ongoing in 1778.

By 1801 the gardener, who gave tours of the grounds, estimated that around two hundred parties visited each season. The Yorkshire weather was not always kind, but it didn’t spoil the experience. In 1792 Lord Torrington found ‘so much to admire, so much to celebrate’, despite the rain falling ‘in buckets’. And in 1799 another tourist wrote that he knew of no other place that gave so much pleasure’ even though it ‘rained the whole time’.

When first built Mowbray Castle could be seen from almost every spot within the pleasure grounds, and its ‘isolated situation’ was described as having an ‘extremely happy effect’. William Gilpin, whose comments on landscape were widely-read, criticised the buildings at Hackfall, but few were in agreement. In 1796, the Duke of Rutland wrote that ‘We did not find any room for censure’.

A poem written in 1859 suggested that the castle was an ancient fortification:

Now turn thy steps towards the right,
And view that grand imposing sight –
Tis Mowbray Castle, in decay,
The relics of a bygone day.

But Georgian visitors recognised it as a sham, a ‘very excellent imitation of an ancient ruin’, and praised its natural appearance.

Aislabie’s descendants sold Hackfall to a timber merchant in 1933, and much of the woodland was felled. Happily, the folly survived this period of neglect (although the short section of wall with an arch seen in the early images is lost), and was consolidated as part of a masterplan to restore the pleasure grounds and buildings after Hackfall was purchased by the Woodland Trust in 1989 (with strong support from the Hackfall Trust and other local groups). Sadly the vistas to and from the castle are now largely lost because of tree growth.

Around the time the folly was under construction a boy was born who would grow to great fame as an artist: Joseph Mallord William Turner was born on 23 April 1775, 250 years ago this week. He visited Hackfall in 1816, and later worked up one of his sketches into a watercolour now in the Wallace Collection, London.

Hackfall is in the care of the Woodland Trust and is freely accessible to walkers.

J.M.W. Turner clearly admired follies – he painted/sketched the tower at Tabley in Cheshire, Cook’s Folly near Bristol and the Gibraltar Tower in Sussex amongst many others. Click the link in red for events planned to celebrate the 250th anniversary of Turner’s birth in 1775.

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Just over the river Ure from the market town of Masham is this unusual rotunda sitting on top of a rustic grotto. It was designed to take advantage of the view over the river to the church and the attractive little town. An engraved stone near the temple tells us that in 1770 ‘Samuel Wrather built this grotto’.

Samuel Wrather (1727-1806) was a wool-stapler of Masham. In 1773 he married Miss Spence, a ‘young lady of merit and fortune’, and he died in 1806 ‘at an advanced age universally respected’. He was succeeded by his son, Samuel junior (c.1778-1854), who is best known today as the owner of Nutwith, the champion racehorse bred by his late brother, which won the St Leger in 1843. The family had a small estate at Beggars Bush, in nearby Grewelthorpe, and also owned property in Masham town.

The early history of the Grotto Temple is unclear, and apart from the stone near the building there is little to go on. Late 18th century maps show that Samuel Wrather owned the strip of land now called Grotto Plantation, but the Grotto Temple itself is not marked.

The earliest image of the Grotto Temple found to date shows it as the property of Samuel Wrather junior. An engraving after a sketch by the artist George Cuitt (1779-1854), who moved to Masham in 1821, was made in 1837. It was published a year later in a fashionable pocket diary called Le Souvenir, or Pocket Tablet and captioned ‘Temple in the Grounds of S. Wrather, Masham’.

The 1st edition Ordnance Survey map, published in 1859, shows the structure as ‘Pavilion’, within woodland called ‘Grotto Plantation’. At that date there was no house nearby, suggesting that this was a detached pleasure ground (another unnamed building and bridges over a stream can be seen on the map), perhaps to be visited by the ferry which crossed the river not far away. There was certainly inspiration nearby: Hackfall, the famed woodland landscape with buildings created by William Aislabie of Studley in the 1750s and 60s, did not have a principal house attached and is only a short distance away.

A rare lithograph of the pavilion, of which only one copy has been traced, attests to its lost fame. It was published by C. M. Dydynski in around 1850 and was inserted into an extra-illustrated copy of Thomas Dunham Whitaker’s Richmondshire in the collection of Leeds Libraries. Extra-illustration, or Grangerisation, was a fashionable hobby in which prints and original sketches were interleaved into a text to enhance the content. The process took its name from the clergyman and print collector James Granger (1723-1776) who published a biographical history and encouraged readers to embellish it with engraved portraits of his subjects.

The Grotto Temple then featured on a number of picture postcards which were probably produced for the tourists who arrived after the opening of the branch line to Masham in 1875: visitors would have passed the grotto grounds on their way from the station to the town.

Sometime between 1890 and 1905, a house was built which took its name from the existing pleasure grounds: ‘The Grotto’. In the 1910s it was home to Arthur Atkinson, a haulage contractor, but by 1921 it had been renamed ‘The Greens’ and was home to the Burrill family. The engraved stone by the pavilion records that Edward Burrill restored the Grotto Temple in 1935, perhaps in preparation for the wedding of his daughter Lucy in 1936, when the reception was held at The Greens.

A fleeting mention of the ‘grotto in the plantation’ can be found in local novelist and writer Mary Elizabeth Stevenson’s guide to Masham, published in 1919. On Summer Roads in Mashamshire suggests rambles for the visitor to the area, including a walk from Masham town over the bridge towards the weir (since destroyed) to appreciate the views of the church from across the river.

Mrs Stevenson (1853-1935)  introduces the interesting idea that the grotto was a favoured viewpoint of the artist Julius Caesar Ibbetson (1759-1817), who settled in Masham in 1805. Stevenson wrote that Ibbetson painted ‘many fine views of the Church from this side [of the river]’, and this 1816 view certainly looks to have been taken from within the Grotto Plantation (Stevenson would have known the history of this painting, for it had hung above the fireplace in her childhood home overlooking the Market Place in Masham). The Ibbetson and Wrather families were friends, and in September 1813 they and a party of friends spent a day sketching before partaking of ‘tea and syllabub’ at Wrather’s Beggars Bush home.

Sadly the current condition gives great cause for concern: the pavilion’s pretty roof, with its wide overhanging eaves, has fallen and the grotto is overgrown. The structure is not listed and therefore has little protection, an omission that should be rectified urgently. But see below…

Grotto Plantation is private property and there is no public access, but the Grotto Temple can be seen through the trees from a public footpath.

UPDATE JULY 2026 the grotto, pavilion and terrace have been listed at grade II  There’s more here

Huge thanks to Alison Brayshaw and Gail Falkingham for their help in compiling the history of the Grotto Pavilion. There are still gaps in our knowledge – do get in touch if you can help.

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The fact that a building in the Albano hills above Rome has been known since the 18th century as the ‘so called’ mausoleum of the Horatii and Curiatii speaks volumes: it was in fact constructed on the Appian Way centuries after the legendary rival Horatii and Curiatii triplets are said to have battled for their pride and people. But the legend and the sham sepulchre must have made an impression: back home in England it inspired at least three monuments in landscape gardens.

To quickly summarise the story told by the Roman historian Livy: the Horatii (from Rome) and Curiatti (from Alba Longa) families each had triplets. With their respective cities at war it was decided that rather than lose whole armies, the two sets of boys would instead settle the two communities differences with a fight to the death. Rome were the victors, with only one brother surviving the battle. It’s not clear when this monument became associated with the triplets, but the legend was certainly told to the many Grand Tourists who passed along the Appian Way in the 18th century. The Duke of Buckingham and Chandos saw it in the early 19th century and noted that there ‘seems great reason to doubt it being rightly called’, but felt that nonetheless it had an ‘imposing air’.

These visitors brought home sketches, watercolours (professional and amateur) and engravings which circulated amongst their friends and family on their return.

Three people in particular took notice: Sir William Morice at Werrington in Cornwall, Norborne Berkeley, 4th Baron Botetourt at Stoke Park near Bristol, and William Aislabie at Studley in Yorkshire. Each of these men built structures on their estates that took inspiration from the monument, and contemporary visitors recognised the tomb of the Horatii and Curiatti as the source of the design.

The earliest ‘copy’ of the monument was that at Werrington Park, near Launceston in Cornwall. It was probably built after Sir William Morice of Werrington returned from his Grand Tour, which had included a stay in Rome, in 1730. It is shown in this undated portrait of Morice, but as he died in 1750 it was clearly extant at that date. The itinerant Bishop Pococke confirmed that it was based on the monument in Rome: he described it as a ‘model of what is called the Tomb of the Horatii’, although he gives no further information. The forward-thinking Victorians were less-impressed with such ‘pseudo-antiquities of the type of which the 18th century was fond’, but after this dismissal Sir Alfred Robbins’s history of the Launceston area does at least confirm that by 1888 the building was known as the ‘Sugar Loaves’ on account of the three conical pinnacles. When Barbara Jones saw it in the middle of the 20th century it was still in pretty good condition, but what was once both eye-catcher and viewpoint is now lost in undergrowth, and little survives today.

Dating the version of the tomb at Studley Royal in North Yorkshire, is more problematic, and The Folly Flâneuse is grateful to National Trust archaeologist Mark Newman for his help in assessing the available information. John Aislabie (1670-1742), and his son William (c1700-1781) both ornamented the landscape at Studley, but there are no accounts relating to the monument to confirm which man was the builder. A visitor in the late 1750s is the first to mention the monument, and notes that it was based on a plate in Montfaucon’s L’antiquité expliquée, which had been published in 1719 (with an English translation appearing in 1722). That has been taken to suggest that the building was a recent addition and therefore William was the builder. But Mark Newman believes that stylistically the Roman Monument, as it was called, belongs to the earlier period when John was laying out the landscape. Research continues…

It is however certain that the inspiration was ‘the remains of the Monument erected to the memory of the Horatii’, although the Aislabie version was known simply as the ‘Roman Monument’. Being a pragmatic Yorkshireman, Aislabie (senior or junior) built the base as a summerhouse for refreshments and for admiring the view to his Octagon Temple across the valley. The 5 rooftop pinnacles survived until at least the middle of the 19th century, but there is no trace of them on site today, and without them the little building has lost its meaning and impact.

In the first years of the 1760s Norborne Berkeley, Lord Botetourt, who had been in Rome in the 1730s, erected a version of the monument at Stoke Park, near Bristol. The design was drawn up by his polymath friend Thomas Wright. This too was recognised by Bishop Pococke: he visited in 1764 and saw a ‘model of the Monument of the Horati, at Albano’. Pococke’s description of an arched building with four pediments and a frieze topped with four obelisks sounds considerably more elaborate than the original, probably because it also functioned as an eye-catcher from the mansion.

The building was already a ruin a century ago, before collapsing completely, and until recently was largely forgotten. Bristol City Council, current owner of the park, hopes to fully restore the building when funds allow, and some work has been completed. But for now one needs to use one’s imagination.

P.S. The Folly Flâneuse has been indulging in a little armchair travel this week. In her mind she has been transported to Brussels, where an exhibition on Belgian Follies has just opened. Featuring architectural drawings, plans of landscape parks, watercolours, engravings, and photographs, the show encourages the visitor to escape for a moment from the ‘turpitudes of the world’ and immerse oneself in follies. The Folly Flâneuse was happy to oblige, albeit virtually, and thanks to curator Michel Mathy can give a sneak preview here.

Of the many works in the exhibition, this view of the picturesque Vignou Tower in the grounds of the château d’Attre, in the Belgian province of Hainaut, really appealed. It was beautifully painted by Marie-Thérèse du Toict, whose family seat the château was in the early 19th century. Two further views of the estate by Marie-Thérèse are also in the show, as are this 18th century design for a garden pavilion and photograph of a charming Chinoiserie kiosk:

If you are lucky enough to be able to visit, please report back. If not, you can read more about the exhibition, and watch a folly-filled film (in French, with Flemish subtitles, but visually lovely even if you don’t know the languages) here https://civa.brussels/fr/expos-events/belgian-follies

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As the nation settles into staying at home, forgoing a social life and, more practically, visits to the hairdresser and beauty salon, the Folly Flâneuse got to thinking about those fashionable landscape ornaments called hermitages, in which men (presumably women had more sense than to apply for the vacancy) lived in isolation. With ragged clothing, long fingernails, and unkempt beards, the hermits animated the landscape, whilst creating a little drama for the visitors who caught a (staged) glimpse of the recluse.

Hermits in the landscape garden have been considered at length elsewhere, so only a brief summary is necessary here. In the 18th century hermitages sat alongside grottoes, temples, belvederes and sham ruins as essential components of a voguish pleasure ground. Hermitages were created from natural materials – tufa from nearby streams, tree trunks and branches, and moss and heather for the roof. The buildings had to look as if a hermit could have built them himself, using only what he could find locally. Most were designed as rustic retreats, the name ‘hermitage’ suggesting a place where the visitor could be at one with nature and pause for quiet reflection, the word hermit being ultimately derived from the Greek for ‘solitary.’

But some estate owners went a step further and recruited ‘real’ hermits – legend has it via the classified ads in the local newspaper. In return for their basic accommodation and meals, the applicants would eventually receive a pension. But the small print insisted that they made commitments such as remaining for 7 years, not cutting their hair or nails, and making a vow of silence. Needless to say, there are few records of anyone staying the course, but many a story of the hermit being caught having a good natter in the village pub only a few weeks into his contract. Much more reliable were the (albeit rare) waxwork hermits, who seldom strayed, or the automata under the control of a hidden estate retainer.

Whether there is much truth in the hermit tales is debatable, but there were certainly plenty of hermitages. There were examples across Britain and although many have been lost because of the organic nature of their construction, there’s a particularly lovely surviving example at Brocklesby, the seat of the Earl of Yarborough in Lincolnshire. Accounts show it was constructed as part of a scheme of improvements proposed by Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown, who last visited Brocklesby in 1780 shortly before work on the shelter started.

The approach to the hermitage is through a grotto tunnel which was once decorated with fossils and curious minerals. Venturing into the dark space created a frisson of trepidation, but on coming out into the light the visitor’s spirits would rise at the sight of the pretty little rustic temple in front of them. Created out of tree trunks, gnarled branches, and rough stone, around a brick core, the little octagon is entered by an arch beautifully formed of two curving branches. The interior was decorated with rustic latticework made of entwined branches, of which traces remain, and furnished with a table made out of a ‘lump of elm disease’ (as Barbara Jones unromantically described it in her notes), a rustic seat, and four chairs each hewn out of a single piece of wood.

So was it ever home to a hirsute and terrifyingly-taloned anchorite, dressed only in rags? Rumour has it that a hermit was occasionally to be found at home, but evidence seems hard to come by. Although there was certainly a very shabby and shifty individual in residence when the Folly Fellowship visited in 1999.

Hermits may have endured their spartan surroundings, but most people were just too keen on their creature comforts to linger in root houses, which by their nature were ‘not very dry’. James Plumptre toured Yorkshire in 1799 and was enamoured with William Aislabie’s landscape garden at Hackfall, near Ripon. Hoping to be able to return and spend more time there, he wished for a cell to be built where he might ‘hermitize’. But remembering the northern weather he added the caveat ‘at least for the summer half year.’

One man who wasn’t afraid of the colder seasons was William Wordsworth, born 250 years ago this week on 7 April 1770. In the early 19th century he built a rustic shelter in his garden at Dove Cottage in Grasmere, inspired by an example he and his sister Dorothy had seen in Scotland. The ‘Moss House’ was used all year round, including as a retreat ‘for quietness on warm days in winter’. The Folly Flâneuse had intended to feature the Wordsworth Trust’s plans to create a modern day successor to the lost structure, which were at an advanced stage when the current situation escalated. Obviously, that’s all on hold but there will be further news here in due course, and a visit to see it is on the flâneuse’s increasingly long list of ‘Things To Look Forward To’.

The hermitage at Brocklesby is grade I listed in recognition of its status as a rare survivor of the genre. ‘Damp and in disrepair’ when seen by Barbara Jones in the 1970s, it has since been restored. The pleasure grounds at Brocklesby are strictly private but have historically been open to the public at certain times of the year. Once the current restrictions are lifted a call to the estate office should elicit the necessary information https://www.brocklesby.co.uk